Holy Matrimony
by zarling
Summary: One precocious child plus two co-parents sneaking around like teenagers equals wedding bells?
1. BASTARD

**x**

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 **BASTARD**

 **x**

There were distinct disadvantages to having a precocious child. As Bella's child stood in front of her, she suddenly understood all of them. Oh, God. This was what her parents had to endure for years.

"Mom, I'm sick of being a bastard," the little tyke announced as he stepped into her office.

Her reading glasses slid down her nose before she tossed them on the desk. "Who taught you that word?" she demanded.

Shrug. "Dad says it when he's watching the Seahawks games." Shrug. Winsome grin. Oh, and toeing the floor with the tip of his sneaker. The kid was a pro.

"Alexander Charles Lahote, you are in no way old enough to repeat things your father says. Especially since ninety-nine percent of them are idiotic."

The door to the office banged shut as the idiotic father in question strolled in, hands in his pockets and whistling as if he hadn't been willfully contributing to their son's corruption. "Watch it, Xan, she's pulling out the full name card."

"Paul," Bella muttered his name in warning, scowling darkly before looking back at his Mini Me. Xander had his father's looks - thick black hair and bronzed skin - and, fortunately, his mother's brains. But the one thing she was determined for her son not to have was married parents.

"But Mom…"

"Don't even try the 'but Mom,' Alexander." Bella set down the documents she'd been glancing over when Paul brought Xander back from their scheduled visitation. "Dad and I getting married might not un-bastard you, you know. Look at Uncle Jake, he's been a bastard for years and his parents were hitched."

Xander gave this observation a bit of thought, his lower lip sticking out in a pout to end all pouts. "But Mom…" he said again, which earned him an arm around the middle and Paul tackled him to the waiting room couch as he shrieked with laughter.

Bella watched them wrestle and she couldn't help but smile. Her kid. Her ex. They were gorgeous together. If she still had those stupid sitcom fantasies of them all living under the same roof when she was alone in bed at three in the morning, she was certainly not going to admit it.

Paul had proposed to her three more times after the infamous "Not An April Fool's Joke" marriage proposal and she'd turned him down flat each and every time. He'd stopped asking by the time Xander turned three and then spent two years dating a succession of Marias, Brees, and Brittanys. All of whom seemed to work at a strip joint. She'd retaliated with a few years of Liams, Garretts, and Peters. All of whom seemed to work as doctors, lawyers, and other suit-and-tie professions. And then there had been the Jake rebound.

Bella shuddered.

Yeah. As she'd reminded Xander - Uncle Jake was a bastard. But the kid was seven now and he seemed to have marriage on the brain. He barely even _knew_ any married people, so she had no idea where he'd gotten such a rosy picture of the institution.

This had to be nipped in the bud.

ASAP.


	2. FUCK BUDDIES

**x**

 **CHAPTER TWO**

 **FUCK BUDDIES**

 **x**

"Oh, God, baby…baby, do that again," he groaned, hips jerking up.

She barely had time to move before he gave her a black eye or gouged it out entirely, wiping delicately at her mouth and hissing, "Shhh, Xander will hear you. Keep it down!" And she meant that on _two_ levels, judging by the erection that had nearly cemented her career as a pirate.

Paul's lashes fluttered open and he weakly raised his head from the pillows. The bedroom door was shut, locked, and there was some sort of soothing — read: creepy — whale sounds playing in the background that Bella insisted helped her sleep.

She certainly hadn't been worried about their son hearing her when he'd been going down on her and she'd been moaning words she most definitely wouldn't want Xander picking up. "Bastard" would be the least of their worries.

He sighed, wincing as he sat up slowly and his cock throbbed from being so close to a release. "Our boy is not dumb, Bella. Don't you think he sees me sneaking out at six-thirty in the morning three times a week for the past two years?"

"No. No, I do not," Bella huffed, un-straddling his legs and crawling up the bed to slide under the covers beside him. "I think Xander is a sweet, naïve little boy who has no idea that his mother has a sex life. And he will never know. Even when he's twenty and I'm…"

"Still a total MILF?" he supplied helpfully, waggling his eyebrows.

"You're disgusting, Paul."

"And yet you're the one who had your mouth and hands on my-"

"Ah-ah-ah, don't finish that sentence! We need to start watching what we say before Xan's teacher calls to complain about his language. Nine years together and we're still as bad as we were when we first went out." Bella reached over to the bedside table for the hand sanitizer, squirting a hefty dose of the foul strawberry smelling stuff all over her fingers. It was a wonder she didn't get it mixed up with the cherry lube. A lucky wonder because _ow_.

"It doesn't count as nine years if we weren't together for all of it," Paul pointed out, having accepted long ago that he was the whiny girl in this little arrangement they had. "Taking into account actual time spent, it's only been five years."

"That's about four years and 364 days longer than I thought we would last."

"Liar. You broke into my apartment on a bi-weekly basis and you had a toothbrush and drawer at my place. That's totally a long-haul kind of deal."

"Then I got pregnant…"

"…and you dumped me. You're ass-backwards, Bella Swan."

He kissed the tip of her nose as he said that, but he couldn't hide the note of bitterness… the fact that it was Xander that had somehow convinced her they weren't right together. Most women… they got knocked up and their dads showed up with the shotgun in one hand and the preacher in the other. Charlie had not only encouraged the break up, he'd pretty much dropped everything to make sure Bella could manage school and a baby at the same time.

But all this time later, he still had her. He still had Xander. And he got blowjobs and sex three times a week with whale sounds or whatever the fuck in the background. "Even without the sneaking around, we're not exactly unfriendly, you know. Is it any wonder Xander's got marriage on the brain?"

"I thought it was what you talked about on Boys' Nights. 101 ways to trap mom into connubial bliss?"

"No. That's when we watch porn, drink beer and scratch ourselves." This earned him a sharp elbow to the side and he yelped, automatically assuring, "I swear we watch cartoons and drink almond milk, okay, Bella? But I can't promise the scratching doesn't happen."

Bella kissed him then, like she'd used to. With laughs and no cares in the world. "You're a good dad, Paul," she whispered, sliding back over him. "Horrible husband material, but a good dad."

"And I'm not too shabby in the sack either."

This time, she didn't ask him to keep it down. On either level.


	3. BITCHES

**x**

 **CHAPTER THREE**

 **BITCHES**

 **x**

Having learned the fine art of picking one's battles at an early age, her son didn't bring up the topic of changing their family dynamic again until a few days had passed and they were walking his puppy, Poppy, at the park.

"I want a little sister."

Bella tightened her hold on Poppy's leash. "And I still want the Barbie Dream House your grandpa promised me twenty years ago. We all have our crosses to bear."

Xander scowled, looking so much like Paul that it was actually creepy. "Olivia has a little brother."

"That's because Kim and Jared have given no thought to the world's overpopulation problem." And because Kim had forgotten to take a few of her birth control pills, but that was hardly something she was telling her seven year old. "Besides, you have Poppy," she pointed out, as the furry little being in question nosed around the bushes.

"Poppy's a bitch. I want a sister."

"Language, Alexander!" Never mind that, depending on who you asked, a bitch and a sister was the same thing.

"Dad said it's okay if I mean a dog."

"Dad is dumb."

"He misses you."

"He sees me all the time."

"He'd see you more if he lived with us. And if you were married. And if I had a sister."

Great. She'd raised a Puritan. How had that happened? Given Paul's broken moral compass and her own loose interpretation of societal ideals, how in the name of Pete had their child ended up so determined to have a nuclear family, complete with a white picket fence?

Hell, she was pretty sure that the way Xander had been conceived _alone_ disqualified them from a "happily ever after." It went on the very, very long list of things she was never going to tell him. But it was a lazy afternoon that involved a handle of Jack Daniels, pink fuzzy handcuffs, and a camera filming every glorious second.

She and Paul were no Rob and Laura Petrie. Despite his insistence that having a toothbrush and drawer at his place meant being in some kind of long term commitment, she knew full well that if they hadn't had a child together, they wouldn't have been on speaking terms by the time she graduated college. Somehow, by the Grace of God or whatever other force was out there, she had a degree, a steady job, and a wonderful kid who had ten fingers, ten toes, and no signs of brain damage. And that was going to have to be enough.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Xander?"

"Do you love me?"

"Not if you keep asking for a sister, I don't," she cracked, automatically. But then, knowing the fragile egos of small children, she immediately dropped to her knees and hugged him. "Of course I do, you silly goose."

"Do you love Daddy?"

Oh, Christ. He'd suckered her right into that one, and by the smug expression on his little face, he knew it, too.

Poppy tugged on her leash, whining, and Bella pretended to busy herself checking on the dog, chiding her for chewing on an empty food wrapper someone forgot to throw away. Did she love Daddy? Of course she loved him. She'd loved him since the time he tried to impress Charlie with a fishing trip. Since he'd first kissed her on the hood of her car. Since he'd taken her to San Juan Island and they'd barely left the hotel room the whole time. Since the day he'd held his son in his arms and looked at her like she'd given him the best present in the world that didn't involve sex - okay, so it technically had involved sex, but whatever.

"Your dad and I will always care about each other," she said, tactfully, reciting straight from the Divorcee's Handbook - never mind that you had to be married to have been divorced.

"That's what Dad said before Rosalie came over for dinner."

"Well, I'm glad we agree on…wait, what?" Poppy's leash and chewing issues were summarily forgotten. "When was Rosalie over for dinner?"

Rosalie had taken over as receptionist at Lahote & Uley Construction Co. after her mother, Mrs. Hale, retired. Much like her mother, she was efficient, smart, and quite the looker.

Bitch.

Xander looked at her like she'd said the word aloud, and like he knew full well she didn't mean a dog. "Yesterday," he said, lip sticking out in abject disapproval. "She came over with papers and stayed for pizza. Dad said she looked pretty. _Very_ pretty."

Okay, Bella knew full well she was being played - she wasn't about to fall for the kid's tricks twice in a row - but that didn't make it any easier to hear that Paul thought somebody else was pretty. Even if the somebody else was all Nordic and tall and looked like a Doublemint twin and even a blind man would think she was pretty. Rosalie had been born gorgeous. It wasn't like she could help it. And there was nothing inherently wrong with staying for pizza when the boss was offering.

Unless it was a mere day after said boss had been in bed with his ex, making noises about commitment and making her come so hard she almost bit off her tongue in an effort to keep from waking their son.

Oh, God. She could feel herself turning green à la The Incredible Hulk.

"Well, I'm glad you had a nice time together." Years of learning to keep calm, cool, and collected when the shit hits the fan was a wonderful parenting tool. "It's nice that your father has friends, considering his shortcomings in the personality department."

She let Xander run down the park after Poppy, who looked to be heading towards Canada as fast as her little doggy feet could carry her. Bella completely understood the inclination. Except that her knees were wobbly and she wasn't sure she could go another three yards, much less across the border.

She had a degree, a steady job, and a wonderful kid who had ten fingers, ten toes, and no signs of brain damage. It was going to have to be enough. For her. What if it wasn't enough for Paul?


	4. MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION

**x**

 **CHAPTER FOUR**

 **MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION**

 **x**

After a good, long day of stewing and lecturing Poppy on the finer points of not running from one's owners, she did what she always did in times of crisis. She called Jake. He might be a bastard, but he was her best friend.

Despite the fact that he was clearly on the field, warming up those high school students for the championship game, he was perfectly willing to listen.

She wound up the nearly fifteen minute long, breathless, explanation of her pathos with the million-dollar question. "Do you think Paul and I should get married?"

"Seven years ago, I would've said 'Hell, no.'"

Seven years ago, she _had_ said 'hell no' to Paul's proposal.

"What about now?"

"Now, y'all are just shameful. In fact, I'm gonna have the team say a special prayer for your souls."

"Pray for Wilson High instead. You guys are going to slaughter them. And what do you mean 'shameful'? Don't tell me you're getting all moral authority on me now, too?"

"Bella, you got a kid. He's impressionable…and I may not like the guy, but Paul stuck around. I gotta give him props for that."

It was official. They were all conspiring against her. "Traitor," she muttered, making a face at the phone.

After a few more minutes of small talk about the game and a promise to meet up next week for lunch, Bella was left no less crisis-ridden. She wandered into the living room, the phone still dangling from her hand, and was annoyed to realize that though she'd left one boy sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, there were now three there.

"Hi, Bells."

"Hi, Mom."

"Hi, Bella."

The Chief of Police and La Push's former bad boy on the same piece of furniture? Albeit with Xander between them, but still! Good lord, the conspiracy was out of control. "If this counts as lions laying down with lambs, what's next? Dogs marrying cats?"

"Dogs and cats can't get married, Mom," Xander informed, loftily, over the rim of some apple juice. "Only people. Like boys and girls and sometimes boys and boys and girls and girls."

Charlie and Paul simultaneously choked on a mouthful of beer. Hey, it was their fault for selling the child on the institution.

"Several students in his class have gay parents," she reminded them, reproachfully. "It's nothing new."

"Lots of students have divorced parents and single parents, too. I'm the only bastard."

Okay, that was not helpful.

This time, only her dad choked on his beer and Paul actually turned to frown at their son. "We've talked to you about the language, Alexander. Not even during football games like tonight."

Color Bella impressed. She dropped down into the recliner, helping herself to some of the white cheddar popcorn Paul had brought over with him. "So, wait, you're watching your tongue, too? I'm shocked!"

"It's only fair. I have to be a good role model."

"I'm sure Rosalie is a wonderful role model."

Oh, damn. Had she said that out loud?

Judging by the matching looks on three faces, she had.

"Rosalie?" Paul repeated, arching an eyebrow.

Xander elbowed him, carefully holding his glass of juice with both hands. "I told Mom that you think Rosalie is pretty."

"Rosalie _is_ pretty," Charlie weighed in, not even bothering to hide his smile behind his beer.

Bella threw popcorn at all of them, slouching down and pretending to focus on ESPN's pre-game commentary. It worked for all of five minutes, until Paul dug popcorn out of the seat cushions and threw it back at her to get her attention. "Are you jealous, Bella?"

"No."

"It's not nice to lie in front of our son."

"I'm not lying. Besides, I happen to think Emmett is very handsome now that he's shaved off his beard."

"Emmett is fired," Paul said, without blinking.

"Now look who's jealous." It made her feel slightly better.

"This isn't jealousy. This is me being completely at ease with my own masculinity."

"Mom and Dad are crazy," Xander said to his grandpa, who agreed and suggested they go into the kitchen to scare up some football-appropriate dinner.

Left alone, with no buffers, Bella realized she was going to have to take this whole marriage-Rosalie-whatever clusterfuck head on. And she didn't want to. Fortunately, she was given a brief reprieve when Paul closed the distance between them and pressed a hard, swift kiss to her lips. He held the back of her neck and she clutched his lapels and then they were back in opposite corners like two barely civil people who happened to be parents together. They had a lot of practice doing that.

"Midnight cannot come too soon," she sighed, touching her tingling lips with her fingers. Nine years and the man could _still_ kiss. "I'll leave the key under the mat…unless Xander knocks out early, in which case we can dispense with the formalities."

He didn't echo the sentiment. Instead, he took a long drink from his beer and set it down on the coffee table with a thump. Thumps were never good. They were emphatic. They were harbingers. Bella's knees felt wobbly again, and she was really, really glad to be sitting down. "How long are we going to keep doing this?" he wondered, quietly. "We have tried being together, we have tried being apart, and you really think sneaking around and telling Xander that we're just friends is the right way to go? I don't think I'm the stupid one in this relationship anymore."

"Well, you're still getting off, Paul, so what do you care?" she shrugged, flippantly. "Unless you'd rather have Rosalie be the one doing it?"

Paul leaned forward, keeping his voice a low, urgent whisper even though the kitchen was at the back of the house. "This is not about goddamn Rosalie, and you know it, Bella. This is about us, and the fact that I am still not good enough for you to be seen with in public. Hell, I'm pretty sure your mom didn't know I was Xander's father until his first birthday."

"That is not true and you know it," she shot back, her knuckles white as she clenched her hands around the arms of the chair. "I am not ashamed of you. You know how I feel about you. That has never changed."

"Oh, so you loved me while you were dating that douche canoe Andrew from the District Attorney's office?" he countered, searching her face for the telltale embarrassed flush. "While I was seeing Gina, that cute bank teller? Yeah, that's real reassuring right there."

"Don't be a hypocrite, Paul. Are you saying you loved me then, too? When you dated all those women?"

"I did. I never stopped. Because there wouldn't have been any one else at all if you'd just married me one of the four times I asked you to." He wasn't sure where this was all coming from or why tonight was the night, but there it was - out on the table, next to the cheddar popcorn. "You would've been my wife and that would've been it…and that terrifies you. The thought of being married to someone like me instead of just letting me in the back door a couple of times a week."

No. No, that wasn't what terrified her at all. "Wh-what if you leave us?" The question tore out of her before she could call on any sort of self-preservation, any sort of sanity, or distract herself by trying to listen for Xander's high-pitched laughter. "God, Paul, why would you want to stay? Why wouldn't you want to have an out in case this all goes to hell? At least if we're not living together, if we're not married, you're not stuck with me."

"Okay, you're officially the dumb one now, Bella Swan. In case you haven't noticed, I'm already stuck with you. And I like it that way, even if I now have a Pavlovian response to whale sounds and can't come without them."

"It's because of Xander," she protested. "Because you love him and you're a great dad and you want to make this all work."

"He's a fantastic kid. I have no plans to become a deadbeat dad. It's a good thing he didn't turn out ugly." The sarcasm was thick in Paul's voice, along with something else. Something that made an answering lump lodge in her own throat. "But, Bella…I love _you_. I have been out of my goddamn mind in love with you since you were seventeen years old. You weren't even knocked up the first time I proposed, so why do you think I'm only here for Xander?"

She didn't even know what to say. She was too busy trying not to cry. "P-Paul…"

And just like that, he was in her arms again, trading places with her in the chair so he could cradle her in his lap as he kissed her again and again, whispering, "I love you. I will always love you. Quit being a fucking idiot and make an honest man of me."

"T-that'll never happen," she chuckled damply against his neck.

He laughed, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away all tears with his thumbs. "Come on, baby. Un-bastard our kid and give him the little sister he wants. I promise a lifetime supply of love in return."

"Say 'yes,' Mom!"

"C'mon, Bells. Say, 'yes.'"

The peanut gallery was standing in the doorway, matching expressions of hope on their faces…and the fact that her dad was actually encouraging an affirmative was so bizarre she didn't even have words for it. It was amazing what gaining a grandchild and a sports buddy had done for Charlie. The men in her life were impossible. Absolutely, completely impossible. And she loved them.

"What do you say, Bella?" Paul prompted, tapping her chin to direct her back to the issue at hand.

There was only one word she could say. "Yes."


	5. INSTANT GRATIFICATION

**x**

 **CHAPTER FIVE**

 **INSTANT GRATIFICATION**

 **x**

"Oh, God, baby… baby, do that again," he groaned, hips jerking up.

Bella did. Enthusiastically. And having learned her lesson from the last time, she didn't nearly get her eye poked out by his erection in the process. She licked and sucked until the words coming out of his mouth were fuck, fuck, fuck. With the locks on the door, her Spotify playlist of whale sounds jacked up to the highest volume, and the fact that his presence in her bedroom was not a state secret, she didn't tell Paul to mind his tongue.

Afterwards, he slumped back against the pillows, peering at her from beneath his impossibly long eyelashes - Xander had inherited them; the kid was lucky - and muttering about how amazing she was. She flopped down on top of him, sliding her leg between his. "I know. It's a shame I never parlayed my talent into a career in the pornographic arts."

"You mean that wasn't you in the stirrups in Genital Hospital?"

"You're disgusting."

"You love me. Did I mention there were aliens in that porno? Though what they were doing in the ER, I have no idea."

"Aliens?!" she shrieked, hitting him in the stomach. "Ew, gross."

"I'll have you know that alien porn is a niche genre," he huffed, grabbing her fist and kissing her knuckles.

"Niche and genre? Great, I improve your vocabulary while you deduct my IQ points. Our marriage is going to be wonderful."

"You know, Swan, I really think it is."

As he drew her in for a kiss, the kind that made her brain go numb, thus deducting even more IQ points, Bella heard the telltale signs of the doorknob being rattled. And then silence. Then more rattling. She reached over to her phone on the dock, slowly lowering the volume. Well, hello, sounds of clicking.

There were distinct disadvantages to having a precocious child.

Like the fact that they had approximately fifteen seconds before he picked the lock.

In a move that would have made Angelina Jolie in Tomb Raider proud, Bella rolled off Paul and slid beneath the covers — somehow achieving that mystical L drape that only appeared on soap operas, where she was covered to the chin and he to the waist. Yeah, the sex gods were smiling upon them. And when Xander burst into the room, and bounced onto the bed looking entirely too smug for his own good, she looked anything but debauched. Though, if you asked Paul, she had been doing the bulk of the debauching.

"Hi." Xander eyed them both in a way that suggested _he'd_ been watching Genital Hospital. Good God, the kid was too smart for his own good. Either that or they were teaching him a lot more than his ABCs at that school of his. "Do I have a little sister yet?"

Paul turned a becoming shade of red, right to the tips of his ears, and choked. "Um…holy instant gratification, Xan. It doesn't happen overnight."

"I know that." Christ, Xander had actually learned to scoff. Bella was fairly certain she could take the blame for that one. "But you sleep over all the time!"

It was her turn to blush. Crimson. Tomato. Insert metaphor here. Especially when Paul turned her, cocky eyebrow cocked to the heavens, and said, "I told you so."

She pulled the sheet over her head in sheer mortification, which earned her a tackle and a tickle assault from her son. Much, much later, after she was done crying for mercy and getting absolutely no help from her future husband whatsoever, Bella ruffled two sets of black hair, kissed two foreheads, and told the two of them that she was moving to Denmark and raising her daughter there in peace, away from madmen.

"Ah-ha, so you _are_ pregnant?" Paul accused, only half kidding.

She kissed the tip of his nose. "Mmhm. I'm naming her Thea. Better keep that shotgun away from my dad."

"Please, Mom. If Grandpa didn't shoot him yet, he's not going to shoot him now."

Precocious. Completely precocious.

That didn't stop her from kicking him out of the room and telling him, in no uncertain terms, that picking locks was forbidden.

"Bella?" Paul wondered when she looked up at him expectantly.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"I just told Xander I'm pregnant. You don't want him to think his mother is a _liar_ , do you?"

"But you _are_ a liar. And a sneak. And a pornsta- oof!"

The aspersions earned him a tackle and tickle assault. Much, much later, after he was done crying for mercy, he reached over and turned the volume back up. And turned her back on.


	6. HAPPILY EVER AFTER

**x**

 **CHAPTER SIX**

 **HAPPILY EVER AFTER**

 **x**

He fanned at the smoke detector as it blared, hoping in vain that the ineffectual breeze from the dog-eared copy of Highlights would actually accomplish something and shut off the racket. If there were ever a Burning Popcorn event in the Olympics, he'd win the gold. No contest. He was an expert. He could blacken an entire box of Orville Redenbacher's like nobody's business.

Not that he was actually putting the box in the microwave. That was just stupid. No, Paul's take on popcorn took sheer, raw talent. Which he clearly had in spades.

He choked on the combined smells of smoke and stale movie theater butter and finally just decided to flee out of the newly refinished kitchen and into his living room.

Bella was stretched out on his comfy, suede couch. Along with Xander, and a copy of Tooth Fairy paused at the DVD menu. Her toenails were sea green, not to be confused with the pea-green she turned every morning like clockwork. It was a sight he was never going to get sick of - the duo on the couch, not the throwing up.

"Paul, you're staring again."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Xander, you're not allowed to call me Paul? It's Dad or Sir. Maybe Your Holiness."

"Oh, you did not just say that. There's only one Holiness in this house." Bella extended the DVD case like she was asking him to swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help him God. "Kiss Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson and say you're sorry, you blasphemer."

Paul dutifully kissed Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, but he was not the least bit sorry.

He grinned like a doofus at Bella - his _wife_ , his _pregnant_ wife - grabbed the remote control, pressed 'play', and joined his family on the couch.


End file.
